


the name was: family

by SleepyOwl (Indigofingers)



Series: character study+oc (multifandom) [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Study, Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Feelings, Fever, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Leadership, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23509642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigofingers/pseuds/SleepyOwl
Summary: "Bellamy?"Bellamy bit back a groan before turning to face the latest interruptions to his pathetic attempts at relaxing. Standing in the entrance to his tent was a girl he hadn't paid much attention to her since she hadn't called much attention to herself."The kids who think you're the best thing ever since you can boss others around and they listen to you will be more likely to listen me to when I tell them they suck at hunting if I've gotten your personal and official seal of approval on the whole thing."Somehow, this girl had managed to both impress him and get under his skin, to both incline him to trust her and get angry at her attitude, to both appreciate her humor and dislike that it was sort of making fun of him. Bellamy pushed back his rising frustrations and simply said, "Okay. Go for it."--He hadn't meant to need her, but here he was needing her all the same.
Series: character study+oc (multifandom) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694224





	the name was: family

**Author's Note:**

> Sage is not a stand-in for Clarke. She's not a stand-in for me. She's just someone to be the other side of things. I wanted to write Bellamy and I wrote Sage to go along with him because I wanted more control over character actions. This is hurt/comfort and deep character conversations and simple, raw emotions because those are my favorite. I wrote this for me, as an exercise, as a meditation, as a writer enjoying a character. You might enjoy it. I won't be offended if you don't, but here it is regardless.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> SleepyOwl

"Bellamy?"

Bellamy bit back a groan before turning to face the latest interruptions to his pathetic attempts at relaxing. Standing in the entrance to his tent was a girl he hadn't interacted with much besides seeing her basically bully the other kids into doing smart things like washing their hands and being more careful when handling bits of scrap metal. He hadn't paid much attention to her since she hadn't called much attention to herself. She wasn't outspoken against or for him, but she also hadn't caused any trouble for him since he'd basically just commandeered the leadership role of the entire camp.

"Can I help you?" His tone was a bit sharper than he'd intended it to be, but since it didn't seem to have any effect on the girl, he figured it didn't matter.

"There's a bunch of people who are interested in hunting but as far as I can tell, have no real knowledge of what they're trying to do."

"There's a lot of that going around."

The girl shrugged, still unaffected by his dismissive tone. "I thought I could start taking out small groups, like three or four and teaching them basic things like stealth and tracking. I've been working on some slingshots so we can work on their aim, too." She paused, like she was waiting for him to quash this idea. Bellamy was silent, though, so she continued. "Really, I think everybody should find something that they’re good at or willing to work to be good at so we have a better chance at survival. But I can only teach so much to so many at a time. Anyway, can I have your okay on this?"

"Do you need it?" Bellamy agreed with everything she'd said while still wishing she'd just go away.

The girl, he couldn't remember her name, if he ever knew it to begin with, stared at him impassively. "Pretty sure I do, since you're now the boss around here. Plus, if you officially sanction it, all the kids who worship you will be more inclined to give things a shot."

"Nobody worships me."

"Fine. The kids who think you're the best thing ever since you can boss others around and they listen to you - mostly because they don't have anything better offered to them - will be more likely to listen me to when I tell them they suck at hunting if I've gotten your personal and official seal of approval on the whole thing."

Somehow, this girl had managed to both impress him and get under his skin, to both incline him to trust her and get angry at her attitude, to both appreciate her humor and dislike that it was sort of making fun of him. Bellamy pushed back his rising frustrations and simply said, "Okay. Go for it."

"Thanks." The girl bent her head in her direction, like a sort of casual bow with a mocking vibe due to the crooked smile on her face.

"Hey," Bellamy said quickly, before she left. "What's your name?"

The crooked smile only grew when she realized he was genuinely asking. "Sage. Good to meet you, Bellamy."

\--

"If you're not going to take this seriously, just head back to camp." Sage stood and frowned at the kids who weren't really listening to her.

"We want to actually do something," one of the girls said.

"Well, I want you to do something when you know how to do it. I also don't want to get back to camp with nothing and I really don't want to go running back because someone got themselves hurt being stupid," Sage bit back, patience wearing dangerously thin. "None of us are going to be hunters overnight."

"I was under the impression that you were under the impression that you already were one." A random guy spoke up with no small amount of spite in his tone.

Sage turned in his direction. "I'm no expert, but I've done more than you have."

"Wow."

"Look, I'm just trying to make everybody useful, okay? We all need to be able to contribute to our survival. Nobody gets to just live off of what everyone else works for. We all pitch in and we all live."

"There's no guarantee."

"That's why we're doing our best." Sage shook her head and crouched down again. "So like I was saying, memorize track shapes so you know what you're dealing with. Everybody got that?"

A chorus of affirming hums harmonized and Sage swallowed a groan. "Right. Let's check out that patch of berries I spotted earlier and head back. We'll check the snares tomorrow."

"Ooh, berries. I'm thrilled."

Sage didn't know who said it and she didn't care, partly because she was used to it and mostly because the hair had risen on the back of her neck. She started to herd the group in the direction of the camp, eyes flashing from side to side as she tried to figure out what had her gut churning.

Nothing immediately jumped out and while she didn't relax, Sage let herself put on a calm expression as she hurried the group up by saying it would be dusk soon. "Can't let our glorious leader get too worried, can we?"

"Oh yeah, so glorious. He definitely knows what he's doing."

"He knows what he's doing more than the rest of us."

"Yeah? You sure about that?"

"Stop. Talking." Sage finally hissed and her tone was enough to halt everyone in their tracks. "Not stop walking. Keep walking."

The same guy as before nudged people forward and fell in step beside her. "What's wrong?"

"Something is watching us."

"I can't see anything."

Sage bit her lip. "I can feel it."

"Oh sure, okay, you feel something, that's definitely a sign of-" he was cut off by Sage knocking into him and a large black beast hurtling overhead. "Run!" He screamed and the group did exactly that.

Sage grabbed her makeshift knife from where she'd hung it on her belt. "Distract it and I'll stab it from behind."

"That's a stupid plan, we need to get away," random dude babbled.

"Just do it!"

Random dude scrambled to his feet and started weaving his way through the trees. The black thing quickly reversed direction and bounded after him. Sage ran after it, trying to find a good spot to throw from. There wasn't one, so she jumped on a fallen tree and balanced for one second less than she needed to. The knife sunk into the beast's back just as it swiped at the random guy.

Sage hopped down and ran toward her target, pulling the guy out from under the beast as it whined and shook. It wasn't enough to kill it and Sage didn't have another weapon. Random guy gurgled blood and pressed something into her hand: another fashioned blade. It would have to do.

Dodging claws, Sage dove under the limbs that tried to maul her and drove her second knife up into the beast's chin and jaw. Blood followed as she yanked out the knife and slashed across the beast's throat this time. One more firm stab between the eyes ensured that it was dead. The front of her body was covered with its blood.

A couple of faltering steps later and Sage realized that some of it might be hers, if the pain in her left leg and shoulder was anything to go by. Still, she forced herself to return to random guy. His body was motionless, his eyes open. Sage stared at him for a good minute before processing the fact that he was dead. They were both dead, the predator and the prey. She was alive, though.

The pain was an afterthought, a small hindrance. Sage tried several times to stand before succeeding. She wrenched her knife out of the beast's flesh and wiped both of them on its fur in a detached, mechanical sort of way. Then, without any sense of direction, she started walking. It didn't really matter that she didn't know where she was going, though, because she only made it about a hundred feet before she toppled over.

"I should keep going," she said out loud, like it would magically allow her body to gain strength and continue. It didn't. She tried to examine her wounds but couldn't really see either of them clearly. Settling for putting pressure on her leg wound, since it seemed to be the worse one, Sage tried to look around for familiar landmarks. Nothing stood out to her, but that might have been because things were starting to get fuzzy.

"Don't fall asleep, don't fall asleep," Sage chanted to herself. Other voices were starting to form and she laughed silently, thinking of how of course she would hallucinate that help was arriving. Nobody was coming.

"She's here!"

Nobody was going to find her.

"Look, there's something other there! I think it's another body!"

It was just her imagination.

"Sage! Sage, can you hear me? Open your eyes!"

Sage didn’t see the point in obeying a hallucination, but then her pain got worse when something grabbed her shoulder and she forced her eyelids open in protest. Bellamy was crouched beside her, holding her firmly.

"Are you with me?"

Sage peered at him disbelievingly. "I killed it," she heard herself say. "And now I'm gonna die."

"You're not going to die," Bellamy's voice said. He sure sounded real. "Where are you hurt?"

"My leg." Sage tried to focus her vision on his face and it was almost clear. "My shoulder."

"Sorry," Bellamy said immediately, checking the areas she indicated. "They don't seem too bad. It's amazing you're still alive."

"It killed him," she said suddenly. "I couldn't save him."

"Don't worry about that." Bellamy was doing something to her leg that hurt, but she trusted him. Probably. "Can you stand?"

"Not really."

"I'll help." He managed to get her upright and she found she could hobble forward with his help, even if it did hurt. A lot.

When had she started treating pain like it was a problem? Perhaps a massive bruise wasn't the same as scratches from a massive animal but Sage had no intention of letting her tolerance levels lessen. Bellamy's grip around her waist was strong and she focused on breathing instead of the blood she could feel sticking to her skin.

"Bellamy!"

Miller came running up and reported the deaths of the beast and the boy. Sage could feel his eyes roaming over her. She shifted in place and bit back a groan, her right hand grappling at Bellamy's jacket to keep herself standing. 

"We need to bring back that animal; we can't waste food. Drag or carry it back on a tarp. I'll get Sage back to the camp."

Miller nodded and sprinted off to yell at whoever else had come out with them. Sage forcefully inhaled to stave off a wave of dizziness. The forest floor dipped and rose as Bellamy somehow managed to get them walking again.

"How the hell did you manage to kill it?" Bellamy's voice was quiet but it still sounded loud in her ears, chasing away the urge to just pass out.

"If that guy didn't have another knife, I'd be dead," she ground out with an effort.

"What happened to yours?"

"I threw mine into its back. Where is it?"

"Miller has them."

"Okay." Sage wanted it back but the important thing at the moment was to stay conscious.

"Don't fall asleep."

Sage almost smiled even though the pain. "I'm doing my best."

Bellamy drew her closer to him when she stumbled on a root. "They shouldn't have all left you."

"Yes, they should've." Sage narrowly missed biting her tongue off. "That was the smart thing. It was lucky that the one who stayed had a weapon. For me," she added, remembering that he was dead. It had happened so quickly. The walls of the camp suddenly rose up in front of them, or appeared to. Sage knew her awareness was fading fast.

"Survivor's guilt helps nobody."

"I'm never guilty for surviving." Sage didn't have time to think about how that sounded because as soon as they made it through the gate, her legs gave out completely.

Bellamy didn't even hesitate. Her body never touched the ground. 

\--

Sage dreamed that she was flying. She wove through tree branches and climbed upward on the wind to brush the top leaves. The sky was the brightest blue she'd ever seen. The ground below was green. It was absolutely beautiful. 

Her wings dipped for a moment when a sudden pain pierced through her mind. Something was attacking her, trying to pull her down to earth. She didn't want to go. It was so lovely being up in the air. Another jolt of pain shot through her system, then another and another, leaving hot trails of fire in their wake. Sage couldn't help it anymore. Falling, she was falling, her wings leaving her as she dropped to the ground. The impact hit her like lightning.

Gasping, she opened her eyes to find herself screaming without sound, reaching for something, anything. Was she awake? Was this still a dream? No, there was too much pain to be a dream. Hands secured her wrists and held them down. She thought she struggled, the immense weight of her limbs made it unlikely. She most certainly wasn't flying anymore.

"Sage!"

Her name came to her clearly, and she realized it wasn't the first time she'd heard it since she opened her eyes. Wondering, her eyes darted back and forth, searching for the owner. Faces swam in an out of view. She couldn't recognize anyone.

Why was she surrounded by strangers?

"Sage," the voice commanded once again, this time accompanied by the release of her wrists. Instead, two hands came up to rest on either cheek, holding her face still. "Calm down."

Blinking several times, the mists over her eyes finally cleared and she saw it was Bellamy leaning over her. His hands were on her face, keeping her gaze on him.

"Can you hear me?" He asked in an uncharacteristically gentle tone.

Sage nodded. 

Bellamy took his hands away. It was freeing, but now she felt colder. Except for her leg. Her leg was on fire, specifically her knee. She peered down on it, wondering how bad it really was. As she lifted her head slightly, her shoulder groaned. Another gasp bubbled from her throat, the pain overcoming her for a second.

"Breathe. You're gonna be fine. The cuts on your shoulder were shallow and we've stitched up the wound on your leg." Bellamy's voice had resumed its normal, firm intonation that dared anyone to argue.

Sage had no desire to argue. She didn't have the energy for it. Instead, she focused on his face again. It wasn't open or gentle or kind, but it wasn't cruel or tyrannical either. It was the face of a young man struggling between arrogant and duty, figuring out who he was in this world so unfamiliar to them all.

"What was his name?" Sage rasped, licking her lips to try and gather moisture.

Bellamy responded first by grabbing a cup and sliding his other hand under her head, lifting it so she could drink. The water seemed to gift life itself. The pain was still present, but at least she could breathe. 

"Cad."

"That's terrible."

Bellamy paused, then snorted. Sage had no strength to laugh, but she felt her mouth curve upward a little. "You couldn't have saved him."

Sobering immediately, Sage dropped her eyes. "I know."

"You said you never feel guilty for surviving."

"Shouldn't we feel proud of our survival?"

"Do you really feel proud?" Bellamy was leaning back against the dropship wall, arms crossed. He looked bitter, guarded.

Sage considered him, and herself. It was not a judgmental question, but it was, all the same. It was curious and envious, emotional cousins. "Yes," she said finally. 

Bellamy regarded her for another moment before nodding once slowly. "I have to go boss people." He tried to smile. Sage tried to smile back. "Get some sleep."

"Bellamy."

He turned halfway around.

Sage smiled for real, if only faintly. "Thank you."

Bellamy didn't ask what she was thanking him for. He just nodded again and left.

It felt like a "thank you," too.

\--

Sage could feel Bellamy's eyes on her as she limped her way around the wall, taking advantage of its makeshift nature by pulling herself along to relieve weight on her injured leg. It hurt more than she would ever admit, but not enough to justify her just sitting around. Maybe it should've, maybe she was too stubborn to let herself heal. Either way, here she was, inspecting the areas that could use reinforcement with Bellamy trailing behind her, jaw tight.

Granted, she couldn't see his face at the moment, but she knew the expression he was wearing. His eyes would be narrowed, he'd bite his tongue every so often to curb his many frustrations. Sage knew that she was probably one of them right now, defying his request to stay off her feet.

"This whole section needs replacing," she said against the bustling quiet of the late evening. "But unless we get better at construction I don't see what good it'll do."

Bellamy moved forward to stand at her side, looking at the wall and sometimes at how her hand was gripping one of the branches sticking out of it. "We have more important things to do, like hunting. Food take precedence."

"You should let me go out."

"No."

"I don't have to go looking for live kill. I can set and check snares, keep teaching."

"No."

"I should at least be helping them with their aim. And their stick sharpening skills. And everything else."

"No."

"Bellamy," Sage turned sharply, leaning too much weight on her bad leg. Even as Bellamy reached out to steady her, she pushed his hands away and stumbled back. Her head made contact with the end of a stick and she rebounded into Bellamy's chest. 

Lowing them both to the ground, Bellamy immediately turned her face so he could check the contact point. "It's bleeding a little." His voice was strained, taut.

Sage pushed his hand away a second time but he just grabbed it with his own. She met his eyes with a defiant gaze. He held it, his hand tightening on hers before letting it go. Looking away, he settled more comfortably beside her. She watched him settle and sigh, leaning back on his hands. 

The back of her hand came up streaked with blood when she wiped at her temple. "Heads bleed easy. I'll be fine." Sage also settled back, her elbows sinking into the dirt a little.

They sat there in uneasy silence for almost a minute, a miracle as they were both people who longed to always be busy. 

"It's a very noticeable limp," Sage said finally, forcing the words out. Maturity was harder with people who matched it for some reason. "Everybody thinks I could fall over at any moment."

"You could," Bellamy commented, without spite.

"Obviously, yes." Sage acknowledged it while staring at the sky. "But I can stand and I can walk and I can't just sit around doing nothing."

"You haven't been," Bellamy said.

"Obviously, yes," Sage repeated, glancing at him irritably. He actually smiled for half a second, and Sage couldn't really be angry with him. "But nobody really wants to let me do anything or go anywhere because you're still mad about it. So if you could be mad on the inside and let me have your support again, I think everyone would benefit."

Bellamy nodded slowly, his jaw working like he was chewing through her request. "I'm not mad."

"Yeah, you are. We work well together, but you're in charge, and me walking around after you tell me not to isn't helping your image. I'm sorry about that, but get over it. And tell the kids to listen when I tell them how to throw sharp things."

He swung his head around to face her, his mouth slightly open as he struggled between being annoyed and amused. "How is it that you're so much older than everybody else?"

Sage had started to smile, but it dropped away at the question. His expression mirrored hers, confusion blossoming in his eyes as she failed to answer him.

"Sage." Bellamy shifted so that his whole body faced her. "What?"

"I am," she swallowed against the bitterness of it. 

"What?" He asked again, this time thoroughly confused. "I committed a crime last minute to get on the dropship. Everyone else is under eighteen, or you would’ve already been floated."

"Not everyone."

Bellamy's face worked through those two words mostly by his eyes just moving back and forth. "You can't be that old."

"I'm not. Just nineteen. Well," Sage amended, "I think I am. I've kind of been pretending I'm not counting the days so I'd forget when my birthday is." It sounded so pathetic in her ears but Bellamy wasn't getting angry or even laughing at her, so maybe it really didn't matter.

"How are you down here?" He asked next.

"I committed a crime last minute," she answered softly, willing him to look at her and not have a new veil over his eyes. "I asked to be sent down, argued that I always paid attention in Earth Skills. Pike vouched for me. I've never been so happy."

That got Bellamy's attention and his eyes turned back to her with a darker confusion than before. "You got yourself sent down here on purpose?"

Sage could've said the same thing back to him, but knew that his circumstances were very different. She nodded instead.

Bellamy held her eyes for another second before collapsing back on his hands, mouth open at the sky in askance. Sage wasn't sure what this meant, what he was thinking.

"What did you do?" He didn't look at her.

She was silent.

"Do you know what I did?"

She was silent. Then, "Yes."

Bellamy was silent.

The air around them had darkened through the conversation and Sage knew people would be wondering where Bellamy was. There were always questions after dark, questions without answers that everyone was tired of hearing but not tired of asking. There were so many uncertainties that could not be relieved but they would spill out of mouths anyway.

"We should move," Sage said.

"Yeah." Bellamy got up first, reaching to pull her up. The night was obscuring his face but even as they turned and the nearest torchlight glinted on his face, Sage couldn't read his expression. Bellamy continued to hold her arm, supporting her almost without thought, his gaze solidly forward. Sage was grateful anyway, whatever he was thinking about her. 

The 100 pretended not to notice as they walked past, but Sage knew that Bellamy was noticed everywhere he went. He was the leader and people wanted to know that he was still there, like he might suddenly vanish at any time. Bellamy brought her to the dropship without speaking.

After ducking inside, he helped her settle on her bed, checking her head wound as well. A soft grunt seemed to indicate he wasn't concerned. Sage still wanted to know what he was thinking and she definitely wanted him to tell her she could really start helping again. She'd do it regardless, but it would be easier if he granted official permission. Even those who resented Bellamy's leadership wanted his 'okay' on things.

"Get some sleep." He crouched there for another moment, waiting for her to speak or debating whether to say something else, Sage wasn't sure.

She made the decision for him and put a hand on his arm. "We're all here because we're the expendable ones. Whether we were floated at 18 or sent down here, the expectation was the same: that we would die. We're all the same here, Bellamy. Nobody is better and nobody is worse. Who we are now is up to us. And that goes for you, too."

He hesitated before covering her hand with his own and holding it there for several heartbeats. In the dimness of the dropship, he looked so young. Sage figured she probably looked the same. Two kids trying to help younger kids survive a death sentence. It seemed impossible all the time.

"Sage." Bellamy's voice was low, almost whispered. "You know what I did."

She knew that was a question, "what had she done?" and she fought with how to answer. He didn't need to know, but she felt he deserved it. His crime was known to her. It was only fair. "You were willing to kill to get on the dropship," she said quietly, watching his eyes watch hers. "I was too."

Bellamy didn't move, didn't speak, but his expression suddenly softened, like her admitting to the same crime had just lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. She thought it might have. 

"Tomorrow," Bellamy's voice was rough, "I'll tell the kids you'll be resuming teaching them. Okay?"

The last word seemed to be asking a lot more of her than just things going back to normal. Still, "Okay," was all she said in return.

He released her and left her to sleep without another word, but Sage felt it had been enough.

\--

"Bellamy?"

Monty's voice was quiet but insistent, pulling Bellamy away from his scattered notes about guard duties and hunting patrols. He turned to see the kid holding a handful of weeds with an anxious expression making his face seem older.

"What is it, Monty?" Bellamy tried to be gentle, giving his kids the same respect he'd asked of them as their leader.

"Something's wrong with Sage."

Bellamy turned the rest of the way around. "What do you mean? She was fine when she came back with the last group."

"Yeah, no, I don't mean that's she's gotten hurt again, but I think she might be sick."

"Sick?" Bellamy was doubtful and concerned at the same time. He pushed himself away from the table behind him and strode through the entrance of the tent, Monty moving aside for him. "What makes you say that?" He kept his voice low. There was no sense in sending panic prematurely.

"She's been tired. Of course she gets tired of walking easily," Monty acknowledged hastily, "but I mean that I was watching her when she came back with supplies gathered during the excursion. She looked dazed and she would lose focus. I had to keep bringing her attention back and she was stumbling around the dropship."

Bellamy knew Sage had been pushing herself perhaps more than she should, but he also knew that she was strong and determined and nothing short of tying her down would keep her from being useful. "She's been working hard," he replied, keeping his pace even as they walked toward the dropship. "Isn't that natural?"

"Her face is flushed, her hands are shaking and when I caught her arm to steady her, I could feel the heat coming off her. She's definitely got a fever." Monty said it firmly, adding, "I know it could be nothing, but we've been exposed to so many new things down here. I'm worried."

And as soon as Bellamy caught sight of Sage pressing a rag to her fingers, a bloody knife lying on the ground beside half-chopped herbs, as soon as he saw her stumble back and land heavily on a stool, her hair - damp with sweat - clinging to the sides of her face, he was worried too.

Monty rushed forward, his armful of plants discarded as he took Sage's hand in his own. Bellamy followed, waiting hesitantly behind the kid, unsure of how to proceed. "Can you get me a bandage?"

Bellamy registered Monty's calm voice slowly, tripping to retrieve the item when he realized what had been asked. "Here." He put his own hands around Sage's wrists, a familiar grip at this point, to steady them as Monty poured water over the cut and bandaged it securely.

"You're sick." Monty sat back, wiping his hands on a rag. He glanced toward Bellamy, who remained crouched at Sage's side, one hand resting on her knee. "You're banned from work until your fever comes down and you can walk without swaying." Again, Monty looked to Bellamy, silently asking for back up of his sudden decision.

Nodding in agreement, Bellamy faced Sage. Her head hung down, in embarrassment or weariness, he couldn't be sure. Regardless, he lifted her chin gently to meet her eyes, his skin cool compared to the heat of hers. "You've been pushing too hard. Monty's right. You need rest and time off your feet. I won't accept arguments," he added when her mouth opened. "You'll scare the rest of the kids by stumbling about like this. And we don't want anyone else getting sick either."

Sage studied him with resigned and glassy eyes, seemingly too tired to make a protest. Instead of trying to speak, she simply nodded, leaning her head against his hand. Bellamy was more startled by that than by anything else. Sage was stubborn and tenacious, always with an argument on her tongue. To see her so meek and quiet like this was worrying. Even when she'd first injured her leg she'd kept her wits. She soldiered through the pain and never let it get her down. 

Bellamy saw how spent she was and opted to just pick her up instead of trying to make her stand. In his arms she was still and hot, head slumping down on his shoulder immediately. Monty hurried over to where her makeshift bed was still located from when she'd slept while injured. With the blankets arranged more comfortably, Bellamy lowered her to them, brushing her hair back from her face as she closed her eyes.

"We should get someone to help her with her clothes." Monty said behind him. "Harper is probably the best choice. She'll be quiet about it, too."

Bellamy trailed his fingers down Sage's cheek once more before standing. "Do that. Don't mention to anyone you don't have to. It could very well just be an isolated case, but paranoia could make everything worse. I have other things to do but I'll check back in tonight."

Monty nodded, looking down at Sage's strained breathing. "It's so unlike her."

"Don't think negatively. That won't help anyone." Bellamy grasped Monty's shoulder briefly before taking his leave. 

It wasn't until Sage had resumed teaching and leading that Bellamy had realized just how much he'd come to rely on her. Not just as an older presence, but as someone the delinquents looked up to and respected. He could ask her to get something done and she would do it. When he was angry at things not going well, she steadied him. When he was anxious or uncertain, she would reason and brainstorm with him. He'd tried to return the favor, but now knew that he hadn't done enough. 

Sage wasn't the sort of leader who kept aloof and restrained. She gave all of herself and more to whoever needed it, scolding and teaching and comforting and healing. Her Earth Skills were exemplary, her strength a deep well, her wisdom invaluable. But when it came to herself apparently it didn't apply. Bellamy intended to make her see just how important she was to them all, and that she would only remain so as long as she was alive.

Bellamy hadn't intended to need her, but here he was needing her all the same.

He needed her to be well.

—

The first night terrified Bellamy.

He came to check on her repeatedly that day, unsure of how to do things without her constant interference and advice. Each time he strode in purposefully, only for his pace and expression to falter as Sage fought against the world, skin bright with fever and sweat. Bellamy would bolster himself and still drop to his knees as though they'd been cut out from underneath him. The first three times he'd demanded answers and solutions of Sage's caretakers, but now it was the middle of the night and no one had anything to tell him. Except Sage.

She had plenty to tell. “I’m not afraid,” she hissed, the sound disappearing into a fit of coughing, like the air was coming up from a deep place her lungs couldn’t quite reach. 

Bellamy dripped water into her mouth and it only gave Sage renewed fervor. “I’ll tell everyone. I’ll tell them what you did. Murderer!” 

Red-rimmed eyes darted around the space, searching for something that wasn’t there. “You’re a monster!”

Bellamy tried to soothe her with anecdotes from the day. He complained about how hard it was to get anyone to try anything new without her there to boss them into it. He told her that she was strong, only for her to gasp awake with panic edging her voice.

"I know what you did!" Her scream was with muted with exhaustion.

She hadn't really woken; Bellamy knew that immediately. He hovered over her, trying make her lie down while wincing at the heat still pouring off of her. The more he tried to settle her, the more agitated she became. 

Sage stared up at him with angry eyes, her hands grasping his jacket with a grip that kept falling away, but she just latched on again. 

"You did this to her!" She whispered hoarsely, her voice already mostly gone from the cough that sounded like death. "You're a murderer!"

And although Bellamy knew she wasn't actually talking about him, he still felt the words pierce his heart, the pain of Sage's memories triggering nightmares of his own. He pulled her hands away and held them tightly to keep her still. He wanted to say something reassuring even if she couldn't hear him. 

"You're safe," he whispered over and over, pretending that he wasn't begging for it to be true. "You're alright. You're safe."

Sage struggled a little longer while her energy depleted until at last she fell limp against the blankets. Bellamy released her hands, running his own over his face. His cheeks were wet. Monty brought over a fresh bowl of cool water and began to wash Sage's face. Bellamy left without a word.

The second night, Sage was quiet.

She was so quiet that Monty and Harper both had to restrain Bellamy from waking her just to make sure that she would.

"You can see her breathing, Bellamy," Harper had said, her words attempting to soothe but Bellamy could not be placated. 

He sat beside her after making his final rounds through the camp, telling her about the events of the day in a hushed tone, sound barely registering. After a while, he was quiet too, eyes closed but sleep escaping him. More than once he placed his hand against Sage's forehead or cheek, angry at the heat that seemed trapped there, unable or unwilling to escape. He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her fingers, remembering doing the same with Octavia years ago. His sister had gotten well again. Sage would too.

Harper arrived and told him he could go, that she would watch Sage the rest of the night. He held onto her hand until Harper detached him, gently. "She's sleeping easier."

"She’s still burning," Bellamy countered, defeated. 

"She needs sleep and so do you." 

Bellamy bowed to the command and left without a word.

He slept fitfully, his mind replaying Sage’s fever monologue over and over. It had trapped her in a nightmare and wouldn’t release him, either. Morning came all too soon and not soon enough. In the dim light of dawn, Bellamy pushed back the tarps at the entrance of the dropship with tired resignation, a feeling that dissipated as soon as he neared Sage’s bed. 

Even before Harper said, "Her fever's broken," Bellamy could feel his heart get lighter.

He sunk down to a crouch beside her bed and felt her forehead for himself, making it real. Sage's face had ceased to look angry, the perpetual blush and sheen had faded, leaving her much more peaceful. Bellamy felt then that he'd been going through this fight with her, struggling through each day like wading against a heavy current. 

"Get me when she wakes," Bellamy instructed, Harper nodding like she'd expected the request. As Bellamy retreated outside to face the day, everything seemed so much more hopeful, like the sun hadn’t really risen until just then.

—

The heat of the day was rising to its peak as Bellamy ducked inside the dropship at Monty's behest. As he made his way toward the back, Sage looked up, a smile blooming over her face. It seemed to change her appearance from exhausted to radiant in seconds. Bellamy couldn't help smiling back at her, the both of them relieved just to see each other, he felt.

He lowered himself to sit beside her, hand coming up to check her forehead again without thinking. Sage allowed it, sitting with her back against the dropship wall, face turned toward Bellamy's. "You're barely warm," he commented, mostly to himself, but Sage nodded anyway.

"I feel like I've run a marathon," she said, voice hoarse but humorous. "Monty said it's no wonder with how much I moved in my sleep."

"You were pretty restless," Bellamy acknowledged, unsure of whether to ask about the terror in her voice when she had clearly been having nightmares.

Sage was far less hesitant. "I was talking, too, right?"

"Yeah." Bellamy turned a little so that he was leaning against the wall as well, propping his arms up on his knees. "Did you want to talk about it?"

His voice came out awkward and strange, making him wince and Sage laugh softly. That made him smile too, despite his embarrassment. It was wonderful to see her so much more alive and happy than she'd been for a long time. He could absorb a little awkwardness if it kept her smiling.

"Did I scare you?" Sage asked him, her tone teasing. Yet, Bellamy knew - and felt comforted that he did - that she was also being genuine. Even though she'd been the one fighting against a fever, she was concerned about how he'd been dealing with it, like she knew he'd been upset.

But of course she did, Bellamy realized. Of course she would know what he'd been thinking. She'd always been able to read him better than he could read her, though now that he watched her sideways, he found that he could read her pretty well too.

Sage didn't offer any other comment after her question, just letting him take his time with an answer. Bellamy relaxed further, knowing that while outside he was the leader, in here with her, he was just himself. He didn't need to be so strong or commanding or fake a happy front. Sage wasn't one of his kids, she was a peer. And oh, he had missed having her around. Two days was nothing and yet it had been an eternity.

"You did," he said finally, allowing himself to be vulnerable.

"I'm sorry." She looked at him, reaching for his hand.

He took it, the gesture not feeling at all awkward or pressured. "You don't have to be sorry."

"I should've listened to you and not pushed so hard," she continued like he hadn't said anything, her hand shaking just a little in his. He held it a little tighter to compensate. "I just don't know how, really. I always," and she paused when her voice abruptly cut off. 

Bellamy felt her tear up rather than saw, and he kept his eyes averted to afford her privacy with them if she wanted it, though he continued to hold her hand. Returning the favor, he also kept quiet while she searched for the words she wanted. There were probably problems cropping up outside and people fighting over nothing or someone wanting him to come find impossible answers for impossible questions. Bellamy didn't care; if anybody had interrupted this moment he'd probably kill something.

"I always had to be strong." Sage picked up again, staring straight ahead. "I think that was true of most of us on the ark, even those on Alpha. Some more than others, definitely." He felt like she was acknowledging his situation and appreciated it. "I never thought that I deserved to have less struggle than others just because," she paused again, strangely hesitant, "just because I wasn't in Factory or because my mom died when I was young. We were all facing the same outcome, or should have.

"Not being strong was never an option. I don't know how to deal with being weak. I mean, I kind of always have been," and she paused again when Bellamy snorted at that, disbelieving it immediately. "Okay, I haven't been weak. I mean, kind of helpless. And now that I can help it, now that I can take control of my own life and control the situation so much more, I just have to. I have to, Bellamy." She looked at him again, pleading, though for what, Bellamy wasn't sure.

"I have to be strong and I have to be in control and I don't know how to be otherwise."

Bellamy knew the concern churning in his gut was reflected on his face. "Sage," but he didn't have anything to say after that. She just continued to watch him, eyes begging him to say something, what? A reassurance? A promise? A denial?

"We all have to be strong down here." He settled for what he knew he could give her. "That's true. We all have to push ourselves and be strong and be better and deal with everything that's against us. But," and here he swiveled a bit so he could look at her straight on, "when it's just us, if you want to, if you need to, you don't have to be. Most of the time we have to just push aside personal needs and do what's best for everyone. Sometimes, though, we can stop. I think we have to. I think we have to take small moments to breathe and let go. You taught me that." 

He smiled, trying to coax the same out of her. "You make me stop and slow down and breathe and think. You let me talk and you let me be quiet. You've been carrying me since you first poked your head into my tent." That brought out a tiny smile from Sage. "You have been so strong, but if I'm allowed to sometimes stop, so are you."

She closed her eyes suddenly, like she couldn't bear to look at him. Bellamy wasn't deterred. "From now on, for every time that you steady me, I'll be there to steady you. When I get to stop and breathe, so do you. I'm not the only leader of us, you're one too. The kids know that. I know that. I think you know that. If we're going to keep this up, we have to support each other. I'm going to support you, okay?"

He couldn't believe that he'd gotten all those words out without a struggle or really that Sage had let him continue to speak. For all the many conversations that they'd had, almost all of them had revolved around the camp and the 100, not each other in relation to each other and themselves. Bellamy vowed to himself that it was never going to taking injury, sickness or collapse for him to address a situation like this again. Nobody was going to run themselves into the ground just because they thought they had to.

"Bellamy." Sage opened her eyes to look at him, her gaze so soft and unsure that Bellamy reached out his other hand to touch her cheek in reassurance. It seemed to be exactly what she needed because her shoulders immediately relaxed and she didn't say anything else, but Bellamy knew she was thanking him. He brushed his thumb over her cheek once before removing his hand. 

"You should rest some more. If you can't sleep, you can mend clothes or something while sitting down. Someone should stay with you the rest of today and if your fever is gone by tomorrow, we'll see if we can get you something easy to do outside." Bellamy kept his voice light and firm and Sage nodded acquiescence without protesting at all.

Bellamy took this as a sign of them trusting each other more rather than her being too tired or withdrawn. "Okay. I'll come back tonight and give you the report for today."

"Okay." Sage lay down without saying anything else, but she gave him one last smile before closing her eyes.

Standing, Bellamy left the dropship, stopping briefly to send Harper back in to monitor Sage. A couple of kids asked him how she was and he answered cheerfully, his tone matching his emotions for once. Their eyes lit up and they pretended to not care that much. Bellamy knew better, watching them scamper off to tell others. 

Sage had made an impact, both on the 100 and on him, and it was going to stay that way.

It was going to stay that way. 

\--

Bellamy watched as Sage rubbed her knee absentmindedly. His co-leader was currently perched on a wobbly stool with one leg bent underneath her while her fingers ran over the dangling one in a rhythmic pattern. Concentration shone on her face; their plans to reorganize and expand the camp were producing one headache after another and Bellamy was so close to just giving up altogether. It was only because Sage remained resolute about the necessity of reorganization before the weather started to change like the leaves were beginning to that kept him focused.

Autumn was a pretty season, Bellamy had decided, but a dangerous one. The animals around them were restless and moving, it seemed to always rain exactly when they were in the middle of a project and it was far too easy to underestimate the temperature. It was still quite warm, with nights only starting to cool off, but Bellamy knew they only had a few weeks before that cool would be a coldness that didn't fade. He wanted them to be ready, and right now, they just weren't.

Fingers snapped in front of him, startling him to attention. Sage leaned forward in her seat to peer at him with an unamused expression. "You didn’t hear any of that," her voice accused him.

Bellamy looked away, refocusing himself. He turned back to her with a shrug. "We've been saying the same things for the past hour. Does it matter?"

"I want to take a trip."

He stared at her. "You what?"

"I want to take a reconnaissance trip to look for other resources, map more of the area and more specifically, I want to look for one of the bunkers that we decided was too far away to try and loot." Sage held his eyes, daring him to look away.

Bellamy bit his tongue before replying. "You admit that we - the two of us - decided together that even the closest bunker to here was at least two days' walk away, through territory we have never gone through before, territory we know the grounders likely patrol and that the assets the bunker could provide did not outweigh the dangers the trip there and back would assume. Why are you suddenly changing your mind now?"

"Because we're clearly on our own, Bellamy." Sage finally released him, dropping her own gaze first. "No one else has come down and the grounders aren't interested in helping or even talking. It's obvious that the Ark expects us to die and the grounders expect us to die, either through weather conditions or starvation. It was too big of a risk earlier, but now I think we have to take it."

“It’s not any less of a risk now than it was before,” Bellamy countered. “And would you be going by yourself? Or who would you take that would useful to you and that we could spare here? We can’t both go since that’d leave the kids alone for at least one night if not two and as much as they’ve grown since we landed, you know chaos would reign if no one is in charge. Not to mention that if you go and you don’t come back-”

Sage looked back up but didn’t say anything.

Bellamy glanced all around before squaring his shoulders and looking right at her. “What if you don’t come back? What then, huh? Don’t you know how worried I’d- we’d all be? We’ve already lost more people than we needed to and we absolutely cannot afford to lose you, too.”

“You’d survive without me,” Sage said firmly. “You’d do even better.”

“I cannot lose you.” Bellamy didn’t hesitate this time, just saying straight out. “If you do not come back, I will not survive.”

“If I do not come back you will survive because you must, because that’s what I would do, for your sake, for my sake, for the sake of all those kids. And this is a moot point because I plan on coming back, Bellamy.”

“You can’t be sure of that!”

“I will come back to you.”

Bellamy blinked hard against the stinging around his eyes, unwilling to waver any further.

Sage’s hand came up to press against his cheek, then hovered in the air when he jerked it away, afraid. “This conversation is over.”

“If you end this conversation here, I will just go by myself and you can worry or not worry as you like.” Sage didn’t drop her hand, instead reached out a little further, trying to touch him, making her harsh words seem like a lie.

He lied right back. “I won’t forgive you.”

“This isn’t about the two of us, Bellamy. This is about all of us and our survival.”

“It’s not about you having zero regard for your own safety and running into danger like it’s what you crave?” His voice was startlingly bitter even to his own ears. “I am never selfish. I’ve never been able to afford being selfish, so I don’t even know what it feels like, but maybe this is it.” He closed his eyes as Sage’s hand finally made contact again, her hand like fire against his skin. “Sage.”

“I’ll come back.” She whispered it to the thin space between their bodies. Her other hand was pulling his up to her cheek as well.

He opened his eyes and watched his fingers trail down her face. “I need you.” 

The words were blunt and felt too rough, too simple to properly convey what he meant, but they were all he had. Briefly, Bellamy wondered what it would be like to kiss her as Sage looked up at him, her lips curved in a soft smile of affection. The notion faded in a flash, replaced by the same kind of affection she was bestowing on him. He didn’t want to kiss her, he realized. He wanted to hold her. He wanted her to hold him. But this need that he felt, the need for her to be safe, it felt very much the same as the need he felt about his sister. 

It came as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. He hadn’t known how to classify what he felt for Sage, but now he could give it a name.

That name was: family.

“You don’t need me.”

“I think maybe I do,” Sage answered softly, moving closer so she could wrap her arms around him. “I’ve never really been selfish before, but maybe this is what it feels like.”

Bellamy didn’t laugh, but allowed himself a smile. “Neither of us is good at being selfish.”

“Or at needing someone.”

“But maybe we’re allowed to need. Maybe we can need each other. Isn’t that family?”

Sage tilted her head back to look at him wonderingly. “Is it? Is that what we are?”

“All of us are,” Bellamy nodded, certain now. “That includes the two of us. We’re not just leaders or partners, Sage. We’re family. That gives me the right to worry about you just like I worry about anyone.”

“I guess it does. But since we’re basically the parents of this ragtag family, shouldn’t we do everything we can for them?”

“Shouldn’t we be responsible?”

“Bellamy,” Sage sighed, leaning her forehead on his chest, making her voice muffled. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Really?” He couldn’t resist teasing her. “You seem to enjoy it every other time.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

Bellamy barely caught the words she’d whispered into his jacket. “Then don’t?” But he knew he’d lost the fight even as Sage rested more comfortably in his arms. “You can take Miller. He’ll keep you safe. But if you run into trouble of any kind, come home, please. If you can’t get into the bunker, come home. Don’t make me worry too much.”

Sage nodded and Bellamy didn’t say anything else. Of course he was going to worry too much. 

After all, they were family.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like everyone who read this to appreciate the fact that after finishing this I really wanted to call it Sage Advice but didn't, because that wouldn't fit the tone. If the thought also popped into your head, congrats, great minds.


End file.
